"A Hero Stumbles"
He would later reflect that it was a surprisingly ordinary event that kick started the change in their relationship ... shifting it from a simple friendship to something ….. more.
Jack was trudging back to the caves, having delivered a load of water to the beach, and was lost in thought. With his forehead unconsciously creased, he was reviewing everything he could remember about delivering a child. Not that it was going to be like anything he'd done during his residency, he snorted. There had been no "wilderness maternity" rotation. So now, whenever his jittery thoughts skipped onto the topic of Claire's impending labour, he was inundated with "what ifs"; What if the baby comes early and can't survive without an incubator? What if the baby is turned and ends up being a breach birth? What if Claire haemorrhages? What if she doesn't dilate enough or needs a caesarean? Like angry bees, the worries buzzed around his brain while he tried with all his might to not just start screaming like a madman. Some days, he felt as though his father was exacting revenge; flinging him into the very situation and role he claimed Jack was incapable of handling. The nightmare for Jack wasn't the plane crash ... it was what came after. Feeling himself to be a complete impostor, he was forced into being the "level headed" leader. If only they knew, he sighed.
He was so caught up in his worries that he didn't see the backpack until it was too late. Catching his foot in one of the straps, he tripped and fell hard to the ground. He tried to stop himself with his hands, but the ground was too muddy and he landed with a thud. He pushed himself up, cursing, "Damn it! What the hell was " ..
He was interrupted by a startled exclamation from above, followed immediately by the sound of crashing branches. He looked up just in time to see a flash of chestnut hair and orange cotton as Kate slid down the tree, landed with a muffled "umpf" and stumbled into him.
"Hey!" he said, reaching out to steady her. "Are you trying to get us both killed?" he said with exasperation, certain she'd just taken 10 years off of his still racing heart.
Kate, her face flushed from her recent exertion, quirked her lips up into a wry smile. "Well, I'm not the one clumping through the woods and causing a ruckus," she pointed out.
"No. You're just the one leaving things lying around to be tripped over," he shot back, unable to muster enough energy to even attempt a teasing reply.
Frowning at his aloof behaviour, she swiped at some of the palm bark clinging to the front of her orange t-shirt. "Yes, well, it wasn't exactly hidden, Jack. I don't know what you're upset about. I'm the one that got injured," she said looking more closely at her hand. "I lost my grip on the tree when you decided to storm through, and ripped my blister open."
Instantly contrite, Jack reached for her hand. Fabulous, he thought to himself. As if you don't already have enough to deal with, now your recruiting injured people. Damn fool … if I'd just been paying attention to where I was going ….
"Let me look at that." he examined the wound and sighed. "Sorry, Kate. We better get this cleaned out and bandaged." Letting her hand go, he took off his backpack. He rummaged around in it for a second and pulled out a little travel sized bottle of shampoo he had filled with peroxide, and a few Band-Aids. He gently tugged her over to a large rock and sat her down.
"Pert plus? Shampoo is now a first aid item?" she asked sceptically.
"Kate, " he said impatiently. "it's peroxide. I filled it with peroxide so I didn't have to lug the whole bottle around with me."
She could see the tension in his neck as he dribbled water on her hand to rinse away most of the dirt, then uncapped the shampoo bottle. She knew he hadn't been sleeping well lately, but now she began to wonder if he slept at all. "Jack, it's fine. Save the peroxide for a real injury, " she said, pulling her hand away.
Without looking up, Jack caught her wrist and held it firmly so he could pour the peroxide on her hand. "Hold still … this will sting a bit, but only for a second," he said and flooded the wound with the disinfectant.
She inhaled sharply as the peroxide bubbled and stung her torn flesh. "Jack? Didn't you hear what I said? I said I'm fine… it's just a scrape."
"Kate." he said tersely. "Would you just let me do my job? It needs to be cleaned. There is no such thing as 'just a scrape' out here." Pulling out a large band aid, he continued, his voice rising. " A scrape leads to infection and without the proper antibiotics, that infection spreads to the blood. Once that happens, your hand is as good as gone. I may have taunted Sawyer about needing his arm amputated, but I'd really rather not have to actually go through with it on someone … not here without the right tools," With jerky movements he shoved the bottle back into his bag, and roughly pulled the bag closed. Looking up at her, he levelled her with his bloodshot eyes, his voice rising nearly to a shout. "Not here on you. If that torn blister gets infected, if you're lucky, you are just looking at a raging fever and gangrene. Is that what you want, Kate? Is it! So just let me do my God damned job, will you!"
"Jack …" Kate said reaching out to touch his shoulder, at a loss for words. She had never seen him wound this tightly before. She was shocked by his outburst; looking at his face, it was like he wasn't even really seeing her.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, he got a grip on himself. Oh God, he thought to himself, what is wrong with me! He jerked away from her touch, horrified by his own behaviour. He closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head as if in denial. He raised his head and looked at her with haunted eyes. Jack opened his mouth to speak … to apologize, but nothing would come out. He stumbled back a few steps, then turned and ran blindly into the jungle; trying to escape what happened … trying to escape himself.
"Jack? Jack!" Kate called after him. She had been in a plane crash, and chased by some mysterious creature, but never had she been more scared than she was right now. It wasn't the stress she saw in Jack's face that worried her … that she could understand. It was the haunted, gut-wrenching anguish she saw in his eyes that shook her to her very core.
Grabbing her bag, she raced off after him.